


Don't You Worry About The Distance

by ofnopesandwhyatts



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, musicians au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5014843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofnopesandwhyatts/pseuds/ofnopesandwhyatts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musician AU.<br/>Ben and Leslie met at their performing arts high school, but now that graduation has come and gone, it's time to face the music.<br/>Title taken from Hey There Delilah by the Plain White Ts, my inspiration for this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prequel

It was two Sundays after graduation.

His boxes were on their way to Chicago already and his bags were packed and in his car.

He had an apartment and a record deal lined up there, and he was finally getting away from his parents.

When he was in the car with his mother and sister three years earlier, leaving his father and brother behind in Minnesota, he had hoped for exactly that, leaving absolutely everything in the past and living only for his music and the future.

But he wasn’t expecting to meet her.

***

She lived two houses down from him but he didn’t learn that until his sixteenth birthday.

He met her in history class.

And at a performing arts focused charter school, those classes involve a debate on the Baroque versus the Classical era on the very first day.

When he was called on to defend the Baroque period, he thought he could defend his well reasoned point with dignity, and sit down quietly.

Until he found himself red in the face, shouting about how Pachelbel’s Canon and Handel’s Messiah are cultural staples even today, losing the argument because he could swear he was staring Mozart in the face.

Winning the argument or not, she was yelling herself hoarse as well, as though she needed him to agree, and the teacher sent them both out in the hall to calm down.

He sighed and slid down the wall. “And I’ve completely embarrassed myself on the first day, great.”

She sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Wrong opinions will do that.”

He scowled at her and attempted to draw away.

She cleared her throat and touched his hand lightly. “Sorry. I really am. I’m just really passionate about the Classical era. I love the Classical period because it went along with the Enlightenment, you know? Music is as much of a crazy learning process as philosophy is, and I believe that Beethoven’s discovery that music has no limits, not even deafness, is a discovery much more profound and relevant now than anything that Rousseau said then, or even what Bach had to say with his music years before.”

He’d been attracted to strings for years, but he was sure then, that her mouth was the most beautiful instrument he’d ever heard, and he really wanted to kiss it.

“I’m Ben.”

She smiled and pulled him up to stand with the hand he’d forgotten he was holding. Her smile was enchanting.

“Leslie.”

***

He had his record deal and she had her acceptance to Juilliard.

It was not their plan. They were both going to go to New York City and they were going to visit a museum every Saturday and they were going to sit outside Carnegie Hall and long for the day when they’d play in it, and they were going to have their own special park bench in Central Park.

***

Until the guidance counselor told him at the end of his junior year that he’d have no chance at Juilliard without any extensive performance or competitive experience.

So he started a band with his neighbor Andy, and a couple of other kids from public school. They played gigs where they’d need hand stamps, they played Pachelbel and Dave Matthews at weddings, and they auditioned for a local Battle of the Bands.

And they won.

Before he knew it, Ben had his acceptance to Juilliard and a prize winning record deal.

He also had a girlfriend that tore his Juilliard letter in half, even through her tears, and told him that he needed to go after his dream.

***

It was two Sundays after graduation, and it was getting far too close to midnight.

They were watching some stupid teen movie in his basement but they hadn’t really been watching at all.

He looked over to see her eyes overflowing with tears.

He brought her to his chest and kissed the top of her head in hopes that she wouldn’t see his own.

“Four years, Les. If that. I’ll probably be there in no time after this all falls apart, and we can do everything we planned.”

“You’ll do amazing, Ben. And I’m so proud. I just wish-”

She buried her head in his chest without finishing her thought, and he understood.

Adulthood doesn’t care about your wishes.

 

 


	2. Freshman Year Part 1

**August**

They stood in the doorway of her little shoebox apartment, not knowing what came next.

“Thanks for driving me. You didn’t have to, I mean, you’re so busy right now.”

Ben twirled one of her curls around his finger as his other hand guided her closer to him.

“Believe me Leslie, I had to. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Seeing you achieve your dream is a non-optional boyfriend activity.”

She stepped into his arms and spoke into his chest.

“Well, thank you all the same.”

They stayed in that doorway for what seemed like forever, until a throat was cleared behind them.

It was her roommate, a beautiful woman who was studying nursing at NYU, with whom Leslie had already fallen head over heels in love with.

“ANN!”

Leslie pulled away from their hug and rushed at her new friend.

Ben smiled at the woman, but he knew his moment was shattered.

He stepped out of the doorway but he didn’t go inside.

“Love you.”

She didn’t hear him, already engrossed in some passionate topic with her new best friend, and Ben smiled sadly and retreated down the hall.’

**September**

They’d talked on the phone every day, but she was still beside herself with excitement. She’d even cleaned for the occasion, or rather, had at least made the effort to shove her junk off her bed onto the floor, so that he couldn’t see it. 

They’d promised to Skype once a week, but it had slipped through the cracks for the last three weeks, Leslie spending most of her twenty waking hours in class or practicing, and him living a completely nocturnal life.

Her laptop was open next to the Liberal Arts textbook she desperately wanted to throw through a window, and she learned to love that absolutely awful Skype ringtone instantly.

Not enough to let it ring though.

Her eyes immediately welled up when he came onscreen.

“Hey.”

She never understood why he thought he was awkward. Sure, he’d babble like an idiot whenever someone would ask him to sing, he had an embarrassing comic book collection, and he’d more than once tripped on the cords littering his stage, but she couldn’t picture him any less smooth than melted chocolate.

Just the one word from him had broken up the rock settled in her stomach. It was still hard, but it was digestible.

The tears spilled over.

“Hey.”

She half sobbed and half laughed when she saw his hand instinctively reach for her.

He retracted it and brushed his hand on his jeans as if to wipe away the awkwardness.

The call was wordless as he began to grimace.

Leslie was about to pass it off as lag when Ben’s grimace turned to a tentative smile.

“So we started recording today-”

Leslie half listened and half thanked the gods of music for the soothing melody of his voice.

Ben finished his story and broke into an actual smile.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

She shook her head. “I just really miss you.”

He knew what the issue was. Hard work and raw natural talent are not enough to please everyone when you’re in New York. And that’s not a very Leslie thing to say out loud. So he nodded his head and then raised his eyebrows to change the subject.

“What _exactly_ do you miss?”

**October**

Ann may have been a nursing student, but sometimes she needed to be nursed.

When Leslie took her temperature at ten o’clock at night, she was concerned and immediately headed to the medicine cabinet.

_Dammit. Nothing._

“Ann, I’m going to Duane Reade. We don’t have any Tylenol.”

Ann shook her head weakly and groaned.

“I’ll be back before you know it, my smart, beautiful, walking Kleenex. Love you.”

She stuffed her phone in her boot and grabbed her purse to leave.

She’d walked one of the two blocks to the drugstore when she felt something pressed to her back.

“Get down on the ground.”

Leslie knelt down and made a silent promise to God that she’d play some hymns or something if he’d just let her survive this.

The man who held her life and a gun in his hands walked around her and she was startled by what she saw.

A skinny boy with hollowed out eyes, that couldn’t have been any older than she was, pressed a gun up against her chin and told her to hand over the purse.

His hands were shaking more than hers were when she handed over the bag, but his eyes were too far gone to shed the same tears. He walked slowly away with the gun still pointed at her until he made a full turn and sprinted away.

She reached for her phone, fully intending to call the police, but she decided against it. All she could tell them would be that the guy was a heroin addict that bore a haunting resemblance to Eminem, but she figured that wasn’t all that uncommon.

Instead her fingers dialed the common, and she choked back a sob when he picked up.

“Baby?” 

“Yeah, Leslie. What’s up? It’s almost eleven, I just woke up.”

Even shaken up as she was, she snorted at him. “You need to switch that up before you start playing shows, babe.”

He laughed through a yawn. “That may be, but for right now I have recording sessions at one in the morning. I wouldn’t have signed up for the Battle of the Bands if I had known this was my ‘prize’ for winning.”

“Yes you would have, I would’ve forced you to sign up. Would’ve forged the signature and everything. I have it down, I really could.”

His throaty cackle in response was almost enough to quell the anxiety. But the laugh ended before the pit in her stomach could.

“Why’d you call, Les?”

Tears fell rapidly down her face as she explained the story, approaching her door.

“Oh no, Leslie. Did you call the police?”

Silence.

“Am I the first person you called?”

“Are you still outside right now?!”

She buzzed in and stepped through the lobby’s doors.

“No.”

“Did you just now enter your building?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell, Leslie! What the hell did you think you were doing walking by yourself at night? This isn’t Pawnee, damn it!”

She started audibly sobbing as she turned the key and opened her door. Ann was fast asleep and she figured it was best to have Ben scream at her in the company of only her bed.

“You got lucky.”

That’s what was making her knees shake. Even with the two people she trusted most in the world with her, one on the phone, and the other snoring in the next room, doors locked and uptight security guard diligently watching security tapes downstairs, the feeling of danger lingered.

“I got lucky.” His voice seemed even more raw than when he picked up.

“I’m sorry Ben, I-” She couldn’t finish her sentence, a lump stuck in her throat.

“I know. And I am sorry I yelled. You’re scared and I know I’m supposed to be emotional support, I just-”

She could only hear sniffling on the other end.

“I’m just glad you’re alright. But you need to call the police now, okay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Almost 800 miles away, Ben realized he’d inadvertently picked up Andy’s old baseball bat, and put it down gingerly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**November**

Chicago isn’t called the Windy City for nothing.

The short walk from the recording studio’s front door to the taxi was enough to prompt a google search for hypothermia during his cab ride.

The internet’s diagnoses were cancer, hypochondria, and over-dramaticism with no in-betweens. He’d figured as much.

He could see his breath in the cab though, and he couldn’t wait to curl up back at the apartment. Until he and Andy walked into an icebox.

He flipped the light switch.

Darkness.

He shined his phone’s built in flashlight on his own face, for the sole purpose of illuminating his dirty look.

“Damn it, Andy! It was your month to pay utilities.”

Andy whined and lit a candle. “I’m sorry man, it’s just that I kind of spent all of the money on candy and beef jerky.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Kind of?”

“I did. Geez Ben, I said I was sorry.”

“I hope you know that I am your roommate for one reason and one reason only.”

“What’s that, man?”

“You would not survive if I wasn’t.”

Andy pulled him into a bear hug. Ben wouldn’t usually appreciate it, but Andy was delightfully warm.

“Thanks man.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go get coffee. Since you didn’t pay utilities, guess who’s buying?”

Andy smiled nervously, looking even more innocent and helpless lit in lamplight. “You? I have negative two dollars.”

Ben threw his head back and cackled. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

His phone vibrated and he slid the lock screen to reveal a text from Leslie.

_Hey honey, couldn’t sleep and Ann threatened to kill me if I touched the piano, so I was watching the Weather Channel. Saw there’s a huge cold front in Chicago, and I worried for your abnormally low body temperature. Are you okay, baby?_

He looked from his goofball of a roommate to his girlfriend’s adorable and thoughtful text.

_I could be worse._

**December**

Leslie decided she had neither the money, nor the energy to fly back to Pawnee, or even Chicago.

Her mom claimed to be upset, but Leslie knew where she had gotten her work ethic from. When Leslie called to say she’d be spending Christmas studying in New York, Maureen’s glowing pride echoed through the phone.

Ben, however, was not happy. She didn’t need the Rosetta Stone to know that his “fine” meant the exact opposite.

She understood, she really did, but she needed to find a job and study for her upcoming midterms.

His calls were short and impersonal for the whole week before Christmas.

And to make things worse, Ann had gone home to Ann Arbor for the holidays, so Leslie was spending Christmas Eve all alone.

Or so she thought.

When she heard the key turn in the lock, she grabbed the dirty pot she’d just eaten ramen out of to protect herself.

The door opened to the building’s superintendent and a very slender Santa.

Her super winked at her and left and she blinked at the Santa.

“Why and how, and most importantly, who?”

The Santa turned briefly to reveal a butt she knew all too well and he stepped closer to her.

“I had a special present to deliver and it just really couldn't wait on a UPS delivery. Or even until Christmas morning.”

Leslie pulled his fake beard onto his chin and kissed him hard. She couldn’t help the tears that were rolling off of her cheeks onto his, but she knew exactly what her hand was doing on his butt.

He pulled away and laughed. “Wow, even without mistletoe. Well, easy, Mrs. Claus, I wasn’t the present.”

She giggled and pushed on his arm. “I don’t think you could top it. Anyways, your present is actually with UPS at the moment, so if you’d like to wait we-”

He cut her off with a peck on the lips and drew a box from behind his back.

Leslie ripped through the wrapping paper and the tape to reveal several gifts.

The first she pulled out was a CD.

The Mouse Rat EP.

“No way! I thought this wasn’t getting released until February!”

“It isn't. Unless you’re sleeping with the bassist.”

"Good thing I'm doing that, then."

They both chuckled together as she reached into the box again.

The next was a music composition notebook.

She looked to the first page, where an inscription was written.

_Dear Leslie,_

_I don’t know what the future holds for us. I know what I desperately want, and I have faith in us. I think if anyone can, we can make it happen. But, I do know what your future holds. It holds that same electric, creative spirit that I fell in love with, and 10 billion gigawatts of your talent shining everywhere. It holds success, I feel it in my bones, and so you need to look at the cover of this notebook, with it’s picture of Carnegie Hall, and imagine yourself there. Because you will be, I can see it. It’s reality, it just hasn’t happened yet._

_Love,_

_Ben_

She was on him faster than she could flip a page and he had half a mind to let her continue, but he had one more present to give.

He rolled out from under her and grabbed the last, and smallest, gift.

She opened the jewelry box and gawked at it’s contents.

She may have even stopped breathing, and he was worried.

“A ring?”

“A promise.” He knelt in front of her. “Not an engagement. I know some people do get engaged at eighteen but it’s not really my style, and right now everything’s so crazy. It would probably be a bad idea.”

He looked up for confirmation but she just stared at him.

“But it’s a promise. I really have every intention of marrying you someday. Plus, long distance is hard, and this can be, y’know, a constant reminder that I love you when things get tough. And it’s like half as pretty as you which is quite the accomplishment for a diamond, because you-”

She was kissing him again now, and this time he had no plans to stop her.

“Wow you really kicked my ass at Christmas this year. I got you a Star Wars DVD set and a Starship Enterprise model kit.”

He was kissing her back, moving one hand up her thigh.

“You are the perfect woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks be to Juilliard's website for having the info I needed. There is much more research involved in an AU than I thought. I actually love where it took me though. Thanks for reading, please comment!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr:  
> ofnopesandwhyatts.tumblr.com  
> officialgregpikits.tumblr.com


	3. Freshman Year Part 2

**January**

Waking up on New Year’s Day is a mandatory, but absolutely awful activity.

Ben Wyatt had to do it only four hours after an earth-shattering round of sex knocked him right out.

He had to be at the airport at seven o’clock, but before that, he needed to find his forgotten clothes in the chasm of Leslie’s room.

_It’s so fucking unfair._

He cursed every unseen force in the world that allowed him to wake up next to his girlfriend, only in order to leave.

Her face scrunched up when she registered his absence from the bed, and he thought he could die happy if that was the last sight he ever saw.

“Baby? Come back to bed, it’s cold.”

Ben smiled and continued to sort through the ruins of her room.

“I have to leave in two hours, and it may take me three to locate my clothes in this mess.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “I should really think before I strip with reckless abandon.”

Leslie cackled and drew her comforter around her body as she stood up.

She pulled her chair out from underneath her desk, and sure enough, his clothes were in a pile on it.

“Reckless abandon, my ass. I had to do some very in-depth persuading to keep you from folding them.”

She winked and dropped the blankets. “Remember?”

“I do. It was very awesome.” He stepped towards her and breathed her in.

One hand roamed freely while the other was glued to her waist, but the spell was broken when she began to shiver.

She wrapped herself in the robe hanging from her bedpost and stared blankly at the suitcase by the door.

“Two hours, huh?” It was conversational in it’s delivery, but Leslie had never been a good liar. Tears were lining the trenches in her eyes, waiting on almost nothing to go to battle.

Ben wrapped himself around her and kissed her forehead. “Yeah.”

_How could a standing ovation feel as good as being intertwined with the most beautiful woman in the world?_

_And how could the metallic smell of his hands after holding a Grammy smell any better than her shampoo?_

_How could success taste any better than her?_

He didn’t know how those other things felt, but he wasn’t even sure he wanted to try when he felt her tears dampen his shirt.

He cried into her hair. “I don’t want to leave.”

She sniffled and pushed him away, a sudden wildness in her eyes. He’d seen the look many times before, but he usually found himself lucky enough to not be it’s target.

She grabbed a magazine off the desk and hit him with it.

“Umm… ow?” He rubbed his arm and looked at her questioningly.

The crazy look faded away and she muttered an apology. She sat on the floor, defeated. “You can’t say shit like that, Ben.”

He sat across from her and yelped when he landed on an upside down wedge. He rolled his eyes and tossed it at her closet door, only to take her hand and rub it gently. “I mean it.”

“And what am I supposed to say to you? Do you want me to tell you not to? Because I want to, Ben, I really do, but I shouldn’t. I-”

Her body shook with sobs.

“You have a shot. A real one. And it’s in Chicago.”

He got up so that he could sit beside her, and have the rest of his waning one-hundred minutes be spent with her as close as she could be.

His lips brushed the tears away. “I have a shot here. My Juilliard acceptance. And most importantly, you’re here.”

She smiled bitterly, and leaned into him with a sigh.

They sat there for as long as they could, but she was the one to stand first.

She kissed him, tasting like tears and waffles, and he could feel himself becoming a die-hard fan of salgar.

“Come on babe. Let’s get you to the airport.”

He shook his head and raised his arms desperately. “What if I stayed?”

She genuinely smiled at him. “Not an option buddy.” She wrapped a scarf around him and kissed his cheek. “You’re going to go back to Chicago, and kick some serious ass.”

Ben smiled sadly back at her as he put on his coat. “And you?”

There was a break in her smile at that. “We’ll see.”

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Leslie ran her fingers through her hair and kissed him until her hands groped his butt.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” She squeezed him again. “I love you and I like you.”

Ben chuckled and marveled at how amazing she was.

She’d gone from cute to sexy to crazy to sad to smart and halfway through the list again in one morning and he wished every morning could be that stupid wonderful.

“I love you and I like you.”

**February**

Leslie Knope doesn’t hate work.

Leslie Knope relishes in work.

That was why she thought her job waitressing at Rizzoli’s -this generic Italian place with a less than stellar star rating- was going to kill her.

Because she truly hated work.

Not only did it take away her spare time from practicing the piano and Skyping with her boyfriend, it paid only shit for hourly wages, plus tips.

She approached every table with the same optimism she applied to everything.

_You’re going to play it perfectly this time._

“Can I take your order?”

_Ann will definitely have a good time on this blind date._

“Is this your first time in New York?”

_Ben and I can make it work._

“The special today is Salmon Ravioli with a garlic butter sauce.”

But she’d find herself wanting to quit every night when she’d get measly tips after a whole night accommodating outlandish demands.

One particular night, she was clearing the appetizer plates off of a table full of NYU frat boys when one of them grabbed her ass.

She jumped back and three of the plates hit the ground.

Half of her instinct was to punch him in the face, and half of it was to start crying.

Leslie willed her short legs to carry her out the back door before she did the latter. She swung her coat over her shoulders without even sliding her arms through and pushed through the double doors.

She was only alone for ten seconds before one of the frat boys came out the same doors.

His smile was almost enough to make her feel better, had she not just seen him with a group of jackasses.

“What do you want?” Her voice was tentative. He had her in a corner and every chance to take her down another rung.

He reached into his wallet and gave her a fifty dollar bill.

“You deserve a bigger tip, but this is all I’ve got. I did clean up the glass though, that’s what took me so long.”

He met her wary glance with another smile and started to go back through the doors.

“Who are you?” She looked at him in awe. “Superman or something?”

He grinned even wider. “No, I’m just Chris! Chris Traeger.”

She grinned and wiped her tears away. “Leslie Knope.”

His eyes met hers and he held out to finger guns. “Leslie Knope!”

He sat down on the cement stairs and patted the space next to him.

She gladly took it.

“I’m sorry about them.”

“Thanks. I don’t get it though. You seem like a really good person, what are you even doing around jerks like that?”

His smile twisted in a knowing way. “They’re my teammates, and they don’t have to be nice people for me to treat them with kindness.”

“What a positive way of thinking. Fuck, I really miss being like that.”

Chris patted her back, noticing the tears had started up again.

“Are you okay, Leslie?”

“I’m beginning to hate New York, Chris.”

She stood up, arms flailing.

“My teachers think I’m shit. Hard work and talent aren’t getting me anywhere in this damn city and I’m wondering what else could. My beautiful, beautiful roommate is constantly at her internship. I miss my mom, and my stupid boyfriend is in stupid Chicago!”

She cleared her throat and ran her hands through her ponytail.

“And you’re a complete stranger. So you didn’t need to hear my life story, sorry. It’s just that I thought that I’d feel it, y’know? The classic Frank Sinatra New York feeling. And all I feel is alone.”

Chris stood up and walked over to her. “Well, you’ve got a friend in me, if you want.”

“I think I do, Chris Traeger. And I think there’s someone you should meet.”

**March**

“ANNNNNN! CHRIS! Get in here!”

The two stumbled out of Ann’s bedroom, wearing Ann’s robes.

Ann looked significantly irritated and flushed, but she’d never seen Chris happier.

“Leslie, could this not have waited?”

Leslie was jumping up and down on the couch, tuned into the website of a Chicago radio station.

“Ann, you healthy-libidoed ray of sunlight, no this cannot wait! We all need to be present to hear Mouse Rat’s first time on the radio!”

She picked up a pillow and hit Chris with it. “Are you excited, Chris?”

Ann shook her head at her best friend but Chris joined in with the excited behavior.

“This next one is from a local band, Mouse Rat. Get ready to hear your next obsession, here’s Sex Hair!”

Ann raised her eyebrows and smirked in Leslie’s direction, because she had bragged two nights before about how Ben had a songwriting credit on each track they’d recorded.

Leslie just swung the pillow and gestured towards Ann’s hairstyle.

The song beat loudly through their apartment and Leslie beamed with pride.

When the final chords were struck and the DJ went on to talk about the latest celebrity scandal, there were tears in her eyes.

Chris clapped vigorously and Ann gave Leslie a thumbs up as she pulled Chris back to her room.

Her fingers couldn’t dial fast enough, but he did answer on the first ring.

“Hey ba-”

“BABY THAT WAS AMAZING! YOU’RE ON THE RADIO! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!"

Leslie swore that his laugh could warm all the homeless in New York.

“Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it! I especially loved the bass.”

“You can’t even hear me, Les.”

“I could too. I’m a trained musician, thank you very much, Benjamin Wyatt, and I have a good enough ear to know that Mouse Rat’s bassist is a genius-”

“Is that so?”

“-And incredibly sexy.”

**April**

Ben hadn’t felt so much like a child since his parents told them they were divorcing.

Kyle and Burly looked at him with nothing but sympathy as the others laughed.

Andy may only be tactless and clueless, but the others cackled pointedly.

“I need some air.” He pushed himself out of the studio, all the way onto the street.

He had dialed her number before he even thought about the ungodly hour he was calling her at, but she picked up after only one ring.

“Hey baby! What’s up?”

The energy she had at two in the morning never ceased to floor him.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

“What’s wrong?”

She sounded like the home he missed and a lump formed in his throat. “They know about Partridge.”

“Oh, Ben. How did they find out?”

“Andy was trying to get me to sing one of the songs, because he’s heard me in the shower, and I said no, and the producer asked why. I just said that I had a bad experience this one time, and he did a quick little Altavista search on me, who the fuck still uses that anyways, and now they know.”

“You should sing.” Her voice had more determination than he’d heard from her in months.

He laughed as the cold Chicago wind stung his skin. “What?”

“I’m serious, Ben. You forgot the words to the national anthem when you were ten. It was awful, and you should’ve practiced, but it’s been nine years. You’re not that same kid any more, and I think America deserves to hear Ben Wyatt sing again.”

He bit his lip. “I can’t do it, Les.”

“Yes you can, I’ve heard you. You serenading me is without a doubt, the sexiest thing to happen to any woman ever.”

“That’s different. You’re not a tough crowd.”

“Do you remember when we met, Ben?” Her voice cut through the phone.

“How could I forget?”

“You were being such a dumbass. Saying that Baroque was better than Classical, I wanted to judo-flip you or something.”

He chuckled. “That would’ve been hot.”

“Yes. But moving on, Ben, from day one I’ve told you when you’re wrong. I’ve told you when you’ve written an awful song. I’ve told you when you’re being a jackass.”

Ben sighed in exasperation. “But you-”

“I tell you very infrequently because I think you’re the most amazing person in the universe. You’re not perfect, but you’re pretty damn close.”

“I love you.”

“But now that you mention it, I should probably remind you to get your head out of your ass.”

It was like lightning struck him, he was caught by complete surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’ve grown up Ben, but you’re still living in the past. You have a gift, and I think it’s selfish to hide it from the world just because you’re scared.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt. A surge of affection and rage bubbled up within him and he just shook his head.

“I just don’t know, Les. Everything’s so confusing.”

“I know. I’m not sure of much right now, but I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I love you.”

**May**

Leslie ran out of her end-of-year piano recital in tears.

Nine months working on the piece, four hours a day, and when her fingers met the keys she played her heart out. There was no technique or passion missing from her performance.

It was the first time she felt truly proud of what she’d played, and her professor just looked at her and shook his head.

She was a force to be reckoned with, not stopping for anyone or anything until she reached her bed.

Her initial instinct was to sleep for as long as she could, but her basest intuition was to Skype Ben.

She figured he might be asleep as the call rang, but sure enough, he answered.

His hair was messed up and he was in nothing but his boxers.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?”

He shook his head and suppressed a yawn. “Not at all, Les. Are you crying?”

The acknowledgement somehow made the tears come faster and she swiped at her eyes.

“Fuck Juilliard. I wanna go live with you in Chicago.”

His mouth twitched up in a hesitant smile before he brushed his hair back and sighed.

“Why?”

“Because New York sucks, Ben! I’ve been mugged, I’ve been groped at work, I’ve lost a job, and no matter how hard I try or how much I care, nothing works here!”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Is this about your recital? What happened?”

“I was technically flawless. I was passionate about the piece. I sat down and played, and my professor still looked at me like I have no place here. And you know what, she’s totally right. I should just quit.”

His own eyes were welling up with tears because he just wanted to hold her.

“You can’t quit. You’re Leslie fucking Knope, and your professor is going to laugh at himself for doubting you once you’ve had your say. It may not be easy, it never is, but you’re going to make it, and you need to stay where you are to get there.”

She whined. “I just wanna go to Chicago. You’re so good at making me forget anything else exists.”

“Then stay here this summer.”

“I think I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this chapter, because it was agony to write.
> 
> I'm expecting the next one to come sooner and be better, if it's any consolation.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Plain White Ts, and to you readers, for being great!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!:  
> ofnopesandwhyatts.tumblr.com  
> officialgregpikitis.tumblr.com


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